Anna Clare is an author of erotic fiction.
Floodby Anna Clare
He drew nearer and she shut her eyes, fearful of those teeth, but she felt instead a wet nose on her cheek, the lap of a tongue. She opened her eyes and he was no longer a wolf. He was a man - a young man, crouching and naked as she was, his eyes as golden as ever. His hair was tangled and matted, his skin dirty. but he was beautiful to her; the strong muscles of his arms, the whorls of dark hair around his nipples, and slender thighs that concealed whatever it was between them as the dream became thinner and less substantial.
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